Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Page #3

CLEMENTINE:

Exactly! Tom Waits. Which song?

JOEL:

I can't remember.

CLEMENTINE:

Anyway, this company makes a whole line

of colors with equally snappy names. Red

Menace, Yellow Fever, Green Revolution.

That'd be a job, coming up with those

names. How do you get a job like that?

That's what I'll do. F*** the dole.

JOEL:

I don't really know how --

CLEMENTINE:

Purple Haze, Pink Eraser.

JOEL:

You think that could possibly be a full

time job? How many hair colors could

there be?

CLEMENTINE:

(pissy)

Someone's got that job.

(excited)

Agent Orange! I came up with that one.

Anyway, there are endless color

possibilities and I'd be great at it.

JOEL:

I'm sure you would.

CLEMENTINE:

My writing career! Your hair written by

Clementine Kruczynski.

(thought)

The Tom Waits album is Rain Dogs.

JOEL:

You sure? That doesn't sound --

CLEMENTINE:

I think. Anyway, I've tried all their

colors. More than once. I'm getting too

old for this. But it keeps me from

having to develop an actual personality.

I apply my personality in a paste. You?

JOEL:

Oh, I doubt that's the case.

CLEMENTINE:

Well, you don't know me, so... you don't

know, do you?

JOEL:

Sorry. I was just trying to be nice.

CLEMENTINE:

Yeah, I got it.

There's a silence.

CLEMENTINE (CONT'D)

My name's Clementine, by the way.

JOEL:

I'm Joel.

CLEMENTINE:

No jokes about my name? Oh, you wouldn't

do that; you're trying to be nice.

JOEL:

I don't know any jokes about your name.

CLEMENTINE:

Huckleberry Hound?

JOEL:

I don't know what that means.

CLEMENTINE:

Huckleberry Hound! What, are you nuts?

JOEL:

I'm nut nuts.

CLEMENTINE:

(singing)

Oh my darlin', oh my darlin', oh my

darlin' Clementine? No?

JOEL:

Sorry. It's a pretty name, though. It

means "merciful", right?

CLEMENTINE:

(impressed)

Yeah. Although it hardly fits. I'm a

vindictive little b*tch, truth be told.

JOEL:

See, I wouldn't think that about you.

CLEMENTINE:

(pissy)

Why wouldn't you think that about me?

JOEL:

Oh. I don't know. I was just... I don't

know. I was... You seemed nice, so --

CLEMENTINE:

Now I'm nice? Don't you know any other

adjectives? There's careless and snotty

and overbearing and argumentative...

mumpish.

JOEL:

Well, anyway... Sorry.

They sit in silence for a while.

CLEMENTINE:

I just don't think "nice" is a

particularly interesting thing to be.

The conductor enters the car.

CONDUCTOR:

Tickets.

Joel hands the conductor his ticket. The conductor punches

it and hands it back.

CLEMENTINE:

What is nice, anyway? I mean, besides an

adjective? I guess it can be an adverb,

sort of.

The conductor turns to Clementine. She fishes in her bag.

CLEMENTINE (CONT'D)

It doesn't reveal anything. Nice is

pandering. Cowardly.

CLEMENTINE (CONT'D)

And life is more interesting than that.

Or should be. Jesus God, I hope it is...

someday.

(to conductor)

I know it's here.

The conductor and Joel watch as she gets more agitated.

CLEMENTINE (CONT'D)

I don't need nice. I don't need myself

to be it and I don't need anyone else to

be it at me.

JOEL:

Okay.

CLEMENTINE:

Sh*t. Sh*t. I know it's here. Hold on.

She dumps the contents of the bag onto the seat and sifts

frantically through. Joel sees the book she was reading in

the diner. It's The Play by Stephen Dixon.

CLEMENTINE (CONT'D)

Damn it. DAMN IT!

(there it is)

Oh. Here.

She hands the conductor the tickets, smiles sweetly. He

punches it, hands it back to her, and walks away.

CONDUCTOR:

Next stop Southampton.

The conductor heads into the next car. Clementine shoves

stuff back into her purse. Her hands are a little shaky.

She pulls a airline-sized bottle of alcohol from her pocket,

opens it, and downs it. Joel is watching all of this but

pretending not to. She looks out the window for a while.

The train pulls into the station. The doors open. Nobody

gets on. The doors close. The train pulls out.

CLEMENTINE:

Joel? It's Joel, right?

JOEL:

Yes?

CLEMENTINE:

I'm sorry I... yelled at you. Was it

yelling? I can't really tell. Whatever,

I'm a little out of sorts today.

JOEL:

That's okay.

CLEMENTINE:

(stares out window)

My embarrassing admission is I really

like that you're nice. Right now,

anyway. I can't tell from one moment to

the next what I'm going to like. But

right now I'm glad you said, "that's

okay" to me. That was nice of you.

JOEL:

It's no problem. Anyway, I have some

stuff I need to --

CLEMENTINE:

Oh, okay. Well, sure, I'll just...

(stands, throws bag over

shoulder)

Take care, then.

JOEL:

(pulling journal from

briefcase)

Probably see you at the book store.

CLEMENTINE:

(heading toward other end of

car)

Unless I get that hair-color-naming job.

Clementine sits and stares out the window.

INT. TRAIN - LATER

There are a few more people in the car now. Clementine has

inched a few seats closer to Joel. She watches him. His

head is immersed in his journal.

INT. TRAIN - LATER

It's dark out. The train is pretty crowded. Joel stares out

the window. Clementine sits closer still to Joel, eyes him.

EXT. TRAIN STATION - EVENING

The doors open and Joel emerges along with others. He heads

to the parking lot, arrives at the car. There's a big dented

scrape along the driver's side. He gets in.

INT. CAR - MOMENTS LATER

Joel drives. He passes Clementine walking. She looks cold.

He considers, slows, rolls down his window.

JOEL:

Hi. I could give you a ride if you need.

CLEMENTINE:

No, that's okay. Thanks, though.

JOEL:

You're sure? It's cold.

CLEMENTINE:

I don't want to take you out of your way.

JOEL:

It's okay.

CLEMENTINE:

Yeah?

He pulls over. She climbs in. They drive.

JOEL:

Where do you live?

CLEMENTINE:

You're not a stalker or anything, right?

JOEL:

Well, I probably wouldn't say if I were,

but no.

CLEMENTINE:

You can't be too careful. I've been

stalked. I've been told I'm highly

stalkable. I don't need that.

JOEL:

I'm not a stalker.

CLEMENTINE:

(beat)

You know Wilmont?

JOEL:

Yeah.

CLEMENTINE:

Wilmont. Near the high school.

Joel turns. They drive in silence.

CLEMENTINE (CONT'D)

Look, I'm very sorry I came off sort of

nutso. I'm not really.

JOEL:

It's okay. I didn't think you were.

There's a silence.

CLEMENTINE:

So you like bookstores, huh?

JOEL:

I like to read.

CLEMENTINE:

Me too. It is Rain Dogs, by the way.

JOEL:

Yeah? I can't remember that album very

well. I remember liking it. But --

CLEMENTINE:

The song's 9th and Hennepin. I spent

most of the train ride trying to

remember. "Till you're full of rag water

and bitters and blue ruin/And you spill

out/Over the side to anyone who'll

listen." Remember?

JOEL:

Sort of, um...

CLEMENTINE:

Remember? "And you take on the dreams of

the ones who have slept there/And I'm

lost in the window/I hide on the

stairway/I hang in the curtain/I sleep in

your hat..."

(starts to cry)

Oh, sh*t. I'm so stupid. Sorry.

JOEL:

What?

CLEMENTINE:

I'm just a bit of a wreck. "I sleep in

your hat" makes me cry.

(pointing to a house)

Me.

Joel pulls over.

CLEMENTINE (CONT'D)

Thanks very much. That was very nice of

you.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes